(no subject)

[goldtoes]

[ Traditional of the indigenous people of Sankharthali, a leader cuts his hair when he wages a war - a signal to the opposition of conflict.

Dhani's, when left loose and straight, moves about his feet thick and dark and coarse. His advisors pull it up out of his face and away from his temples, loosely contained so that it ought not to drag about the floor. When he's working in the fields alongside his people he has it pulled up in colorful fabrics.

Now, as he moves out of the archway and toward the stairs, it's pulled back and woven into place, ghosting at his ankles; he's dressed in bright, warm colors, saffron and reds and crimsons, a collection of loose, light robes with a headchain and hands, arms and ankles decorated in golden jewelry; his nose and lip are both pierced.

Flanked by a pair of bodyguards, he shoos them away and has them stand back as their guest arrives - he has no desire to be intimidating, even if they've dressed him up like a plaything. It's the best way to showcase the exports - precious metals, jewels, beautifully woven fabrics. It feels too ostentatious, still. ]

Welcome, my friend. It's an honor to have you visiting -- [ his hands are gentle and soft as he reaches out to take one of his new guest's, and his accent is cozy and warm. ]

Comments

[goldtoes]

I have one, you're not wrong -- [ He's laughing, easy, fingers carding through silky hair. ] Something about a man not giving up essential information despite being tarred and feathered - well, you know.

[ Is he showing off? Yes. Is he telling Pallo this to impress him? Yes. But is it the truth - also, yes. He just discloses it to look handsome and strong in the moment, which is immediately followed by tightening his grasp in his hair and his breath catching in his throat when he's nudged against. ] Oh.

[suncut]

[ Every little trick of Mal's is working out fantastically. ] Tarred and feathered? [ Pallo's voice is as awed as the expression on his face. Needless to say, he is incredibly impressed... Mal had best stop talking like this. Pallo already wants to carry him back home with him, which would be terrible in the first place. He'd never stop bragging about him, or showing him off- the omega made of steel, the one death could never have. It would be so annoying.

That tiny gasp is intoxicating, however. Mal, who has withstood so much, crumbling under a touch. Pallo grins, pressing dirty kisses to the fabric under his mouth- his lips part and his tongue makes itself right at home, resting flat against cloth-covered flesh in a gentle stroke. The contact is broken far too soon, though, as he pulls his head back and gazes sweetly up at Mal. The ass. ] You all right?

[goldtoes]

Mmhm, [ Mal sounds thoughtful, and wouldn't that be something? Claimed not by a thousand deaths but by a man. Talk about annoying. And if Sanvi got wind of how Pallo were showing him off, Gods above, she'd never stop hounding the both of them about it.

He huffs, narrowing his eyes down at Pallo. ] You're a rotten man, do you know that? [ But Mal'aat wouldn't be smiling if he were too put off. ] Tease.

[suncut]

I've heard something like that a time or two, yes. [ What an awful, cheeky smile. It even has the audacity to be attractive. Absolutely unfair.

He stands again and right after he does, his arms are hooked under Mal's thighs, hoisting him right up along with him. Ready to carry him off to debauchery.

Well, then. ] Where can I put you, I wonder... I'd like to have you laid out so I can have a proper look, I think. [ Point the way, and he'll do the rest of the heavy lifting. Literally. ]

[goldtoes]

[ Being scooped up is definitely the last thing Mal expects to happen, and so it startles him - even as he wraps wiry arms around Pallo's shoulders, laughing in a bright, braying sort of way. ]

Wretched. The bedroom's that way.

[ He nods toward where curtains replace the door, silky and gauzy and soft. The bed is similar - plush pillow tops, netting around the windows to keep the moths out in the night, decor scattered about. Most of it is weapons, and a hunting trophy or two mounted on the wall - the jewelry is stacked haphazardly on the top of the wardrobe, clearly abandoned unless absolutely necessary. But - it's an enormous bed, one more than large enough to sprawl Mal out upon and then some. ]

[suncut]

Thank you. [ His voice is a happy chirp, following Mal's directions near immediately. Pallo breezes them both right through the curtains, not even seeing the rest of the room at first. His eyes are on another prize.

It's only after he's deposited his cargo on the bed (and after Mal's bottoms are peeled down his legs) that Pallo looks at their surroundings, coincidentally as he's searching for a place to toss the freshly removed clothing. He blinks, a little stunned- most especially at the bed. The damned thing is massive and looks sinfully soft. He'll find out for himself whether it really is once he crawls on to it. ] It's only you in this thing?

[goldtoes]

[ Mal hums again, stretches on his back as he's settled down, and makes some effort to help with the shucking off of his bottoms. His entire build is a sinewy muscle, the kind of athleticism that comes only from utility and function and work. ]

Mmhm. Tragic, isn't it? [ He rolls over to meet Pallo, chasing after a kiss and humming against his mouth. ] You should stay with me.

[suncut]

It's criminal- [ But his offended nature is soothed by the kiss. He breathes a soft groan of want in to Mal's mouth before he manages to break away. ] Whatever you'd like. [ It's not just a line, either. He's downright enchanted, more than willing to stay as long as Mal wants... and do damn near anything he'd ask for, as well.

He crawls over him and his hands set to work, mapping over every inch of lean, functional frame. He's smaller than Pallo is, not quite as broad in the shoulders, but he's strong. His legs are all toned muscle, no doubt well-used and defined due to horseback riding, and Pallo happily tugs them upwards- directing them to wind around his waist while his mouth stakes a claim at Mal's throat... that he probably should not mark, on second thought.

Damn it. ]

[goldtoes]

[ The last thing anybody should be doing is marking up anybody else, but Mal's skin darkens easily under teeth and tongue, hands and fingers wandering over chest and shoulders and upper arms. He wants to touch everything that he can get his hands on, even as he tips his head back and winds his legs around Pallo's waist, tucking them flush together.

He's hard, wet and hot under him, and it takes everything he has not to press his nose into Pallo's throat and inhale alpha. ] Criminal, [ he repeats, husky and amused all at the same time, arching his back. ] So much for letting you rest after travelling such a long way, hmm?

[suncut]

[ Very regretfully, Pallo releases the skin between his teeth, licking over the area he could have so gladly enhanced with blemishes. Maybe he'd caught it quickly enough that it won't be hideously obvious later- but fuck, does he wish he could be obvious. He wants to bite and suck all sorts of bruises in to his skin that he can admire later, that he wants others to see as well.

He comes dangerously close to whining about it like a frustrated pup, but instead he presses his forehead against Mal's shoulder, focusing his attention instead on petting over the body beneath him. ] I think this is plenty restful. [ His nails press against Mal's belly, lightly scraping down until his fingers can wrap around his cock, finding it already attentive and hard. Pallo hums contentedly once he has it in hand, happy to fondle and stroke him over. ] You're doing a fine job of helping me relax.

[goldtoes]

[ Mal whines, too, turning his head to chuff at him in disappointment. ] Why are you stopping?

[ Because, Mal'aat, not everyone is a teenager with raging hormones who thinks the idea of being claimed is indescribably hot. And it's a tremendously bad idea, even as he rocks his hips up and pumps himself desperately into Pallo's fingers. ] Would be even more relaxing if you were inside me, hmm? Just a thought.

i went camping and my eyelids are sunburnt, pls call the police

[suncut]

[ Pallo exhales the softest little laugh at Mal's tone. He gets it- he may not be a teenager, but his own hormones are doing a fair bit of raging and he also thinks the idea of bonding to Mal is profoundly attractive. How rude would that be, though? Swoop in and stealth-claim a ruler's little brother while being a guest in his home? He'd be skinned alive, if not by Dhani then by his own peers.

Perhaps bedding said brother while being a guest in Dhani's home is still a bit rude, but Pallo is at least making an attempt at propriety. ]

Sounds like a fine idea. Are you wet enough for me? [ His voice lifts a bit at the end in a jesting question, letting Mal rut against nothing as his hand slips away from his cock. It travels a path further down, two fingers pressing together and teasing against the slick hole he's fiercely eager to have. The teasing doesn't last long, only for a handful of seconds, before his fingers push firmly, testing how receptive Mal's body is. ]

[goldtoes]

Mm, I am -- [ And he is; he arches his back and makes a low, keening sound, a whine, when Pallo's fingers press into him, appallingly tight and unreasonably hot.

He knows Dhani wouldn't have his head, if he let himself be bonded - but, too, part of him has always wanted a reason to settle. Sure, he's but a teenager, still, young and fiery, but he's been through enough and survived it - he deserves a chance, now, to be sated and bred and kept safe, an excuse not to lead scouting party after scouting party, a chance to sit back and direct the diplomacy rather than be the messenger.

Regardless, his fingers come up, tangle in Pallo's hair and at his shoulder, curling his toes in eagerness. ]

he here! he garbage! but sweet garbage!

[suncut]

[ Mal is wonderfully eager, which Pallo is glad to see (and feel- he can barely stand to pull his fingers back with the way Mal's gripping them), though the tight clutch of him gives Pallo pause. He exhales pleased breath of air, as two fingers become three and smoothly push their way inside. ] Breathe calm. You'll hurt if you don't wind yourself down.

[ Pallo makes sure his weight is held steady against his forearm, lifting himself a bit, off of Mal far enough for him to wiggle himself comfortable if he needs to. His fingers pump rhythmically, slowly and predictably, giving Mal a tether to breathe with and ground himself against. ] Calm, [ he reminds in a soft voice, bowing his head to dust little whisper-kisses over Mal's shoulders and throat.

He could be wrong, but- he can't imagine Mal's been fucked many times before, if at all, if he's this damned tight. Pallo can't do him a disservice by proceeding recklessly. ]

i love this trash baby also i scuffed my formatting in the other thread idk what happened

[goldtoes]

Hmph. [ But he takes a breath, and then another, pacing himself with Pallo's fingers and the rise and fall of his chest; he nuzzles in with the scarred bridge of his nose to press kisses up his throat, nipping at his jaw. ] You're making me impatient, [ it's soft and husky, when he says it, but the smile is evident in his voice. ]

it's super ok, i do all the formats. sometimes i flip flop too especially if im phone tagging

[suncut]

Terrible me. I've crossed in to the unforgivable, haven't I? [ Flirtatious harassment is, in his experience, an excellent distraction. Let Mal focus on their play instead of the stretch Pallo's inducing with his fingers, instead of the discomfort he may feel whenever Pallo finally does guide the head of his cock against Mal's rim and press. The pressure is steady, driving forward carefully- if all goes well, as planned, Pallo will be able to bottom out without Mal seizing up from ache. ]

oh tg i zoned out and just...

[goldtoes]

Terrible, [ Mal agrees, drawing a breath as Pallo presses against him and into him, and he curls his fingers and toes all at once. ] Oh, yes.

[ Not so terrible now, is he? Mal's laughing, his head tipped back, his eyes shut as he arches his back to pull him in closer. ] Are you terrible enough not to knot with me if I asked? Would you deny me such a thing?

[suncut]

[ His arms wrap around Mal, gathering him up like something precious as he buries himself within him, but then- disaster. Of a sort. That mouth... Does he even realize what a blow he's dealt?

Pallo's hips kick forward at the mere idea, eliminating what little distance remains between them. His head drops against the curve of Mal's neck, his hair silky soft and tickling where it brushes, and he groans softly. The question is torment. ] I shouldn't. [ He shouldn't do a lot of things, but he often does them anyway...

Impatient now as well, Pallo begins to move- careful, still, but a measured sort of careful that leans towards an edge of rough. It's difficult to show restraint when Mal is speaking filth that appeals to the most basic, natural part of him. ] Are you asking? Do you want it?

[goldtoes]

We shouldn't. [ He seems unconcerned. ] I am asking, and yes, I do. [ Smart? No.

But, factually speaking, Mal is a teenager, and stupid, and omega and nature blended with puppy-dog, wide-eyed crush that has him flushed and wanting is a recipe for disaster. He nips at Pallo's jaw again, nose against the hollow behind his ear as he pants and laps at his skin. ] Please?

[suncut]

Absolutely shouldn't. [ He says it blandly, like it's some far away problem that has nothing to do with anything, when really, it's fucking everything. It's risky. It's stupid. But... Mal's not on a heat. He's irresistible as he is now, but Pallo's certain it's not heat. Even if he knots him, a pregnancy is less likely to catch.

Unlikely doesn't mean impossible, he knows that, but. How could he refuse Mal's pretty panting and hopeful begging? He says it so sweetly. Is that not an alpha's purpose, to provide their omega with whatever they might want or need?

One important detail, though- Mal isn't his.

Well, it's not like he's anyone else's either... ] I don't think I have the heart to be cruel to you. [ Denying him would be wicked, wouldn't it? ]

[goldtoes]

[ Okay, no, he's not Pallo's.

But he could be. Stoic, iron-willed, a warrior in his own right, tamed by a man. It was absurd, to think about, maybe - or maybe not, considering the way he whined and mewled beneath Pallo, calloused swordsman's hands roaming shoulders and arms and sturdy jawline. ]

Mm-mm, that's what I like to hear. Yes, please.

[suncut]

[ He could be... It's an idea that Pallo continues to toy with in his head, finding himself growing more and more attached to the concept. The matchmakers at home had never been able to pin Pallo down. They'd never really presented him with an option that felt correct to his senses and boiled his blood at the same time, and at this point, Pallo was sure they never would. They wouldn't be able to find him another Mal.

It's a disappointing thought, but Pallo doesn't let it wash him away; he has Mal now, for whatever little time it lasts. ] You'd like everything you hear, with me. I'd give you anything. [ Pallo's fingers dimple in to the meat of Mal's thigh, gripping it tightly while he rolls deeply in to the wet heat under him. His other arm is wrapped snug around him, hand holding possessively at the back of his neck. ] I could fuck you full of a knot whenever you wanted if you were mine.

[ It's all (mostly) play-talk. He'll take care not to bite or mark him properly in the heat of the moment, but it's still an attractive notion. ]

[goldtoes]

So why don't you?

[ Mal's nipping, just enough to clip his teeth against the skin, at his jaw. It's taunting, almost - do it, childish and almost antagonistic, if he wasn't so goddamn serious about it. And that's the thing about Mal'aat - he teases and banters and plays, but this isn't that. It's rare, with him. Rarer, still, for him to be intimate.

There are matchmakers, here, too, but Mal has never really cared to use them - they're an elective measure, often taken on board by those who haven't been able to fill the chasm of loneliness on their own, haven't found a natural partnership. Mal... well, Mal hasn't really cared. But he could. ]

What's stopping you? [ His voice is heady with lust and quiet as he tugs at Pallo's lower lip, sharp, feral. ]